


Give Me Shelter

by redwinehouse (orphan_account)



Series: Cranial Capacity INDEFINITE HIATUS, BUT A FULL STORY LINE WAS COMPLETED [28]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BBC Sherlock - Freeform, Cats, Comedy, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Romance, Sherlock - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-25 09:43:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12033309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/redwinehouse
Summary: A student comes to you in tears, asking you for help after a suspicious death in her family. Promising to help, you turn to Sherlock. However, the victim turns out to be rather unconventional and quite furry. You never like it when Sherlock brings his work home with him.





	Give Me Shelter

  


[ ](http://www.dazzlejunction.com/generators/image-generator.php)

  


“Now one of the first things you need to know is how much the environment affects the decomposition of a body,” you explained to four of your students. They had volunteered to help you after their classes. For the first time in weeks you had a slow day, so you had decided that it would be a good idea for them to learn something while they were there. 

You were about to explain how an arid environment can affect decomposition when Rebecca, one of your more intelligent students that even Sherlock liked, began to cry. 

“Honey, what’s wrong?” you asked, taking off your dirty gloves and putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. 

Her lip trembling, she choked, “M-my cat died this m-morning. He was my-my best friend!” She ripped her gloves off and buried her face in her hands, not wanting everyone to see her cry. 

“We’re done for today, guys. I’ll see you in class. Come on, Rebecca. Clean yourself up and get changed. I’ll be in my office. 

You sat behind your desk, tapping a pen against the table top. Seeing Rebecca cry like that broke your heart. You were there for around ten minutes before the red head walked in quietly. She was hanging her head and her eyes were red and swollen. At least she was no longer crying. 

“You can sit there.” You pointed to the comfy chair that was in the corner rather than one of the two in front of your desk. 

“Okay,” she said meekly and took her seat. She still didn’t look up at you, instead choosing to look at her feet. 

“So what happened to your cat?” 

“He died.” 

“I know, sweetheart. But was it because he was old? I had a dog when I was little and we had to put him down when he was fourteen. His body could no longer function and it was the final kindness we could give him.” 

“He was murdered,” she whispered. 

You were completely taken aback. “What?” You leaned back in your chair. 

“We found him dead on our doorstep this morning. His head and tail were gone.” 

The silence was heavy. Finally, you asked, “Well, are you sure it wasn’t a fox or another carnivore?” 

Rebecca shook her head. “No. Several other kids have had the same thing happen to their cats. Someone is out there killing cats.” She began to cry again and you quickly brought her a box of tissues from your reserve. 

“A cat serial killer?” The idea sounded absolutely ridiculous, but the planet was filled with ridiculous people. 

Rebecca nodded her head vigorously. “Yes. Bam Bam was murdered and it won’t end with him. All of the cats in London are in danger. I never knew this world could be so cruel!” Her voice broke and she began to cry again. 

You wanted to point out that she had seen several human murder victims before and the career she was working towards was grisly to most, but you knew that it was entirely inappropriate. Instead, you told her, “I…think I can help.” 

Rebecca sat up, looking at you with hopeful eyes. “Really? Oh, thank you!” She came over and hugged you tightly. “I’ll be able to sleep knowing that the cats will be safe!” With that, she was out of your office. 

“I will never understand cat people,” you murmured to yourself, taking out your phone. You stared at the phone, debating on what to do next. You _had_ told Rebecca that you would save the entire cat population, but… 

“What the hell,” you said. You tapped one of your contacts and put your phone to your ear. It rang several times until you got an answer. 

“ _What?_ ” Sherlock asked in a huff. 

“Wow, my day is going well. Thank you for asking.” 

“I never asked you how your day was going.” 

”Did you figure out who killed the zookeeper?” 

At this, Sherlock chuckled. “About twenty minutes ago. You would not believe it if I told you.” There was a rustling. Sherlock must have pulled the phone away, because his voice had slightly faded. “I don’t give a damn about the koalas! I will talk as loud as I like. Go jump into the sloth enclosure, Anderson. You’re certainly slow enough.” There was more rustling and you could hear him clearly. 

”Well, then?” 

”He was killed by another zookeeper who was obsessed with polar bears. Somehow he had developed the idea that he was a polar bear and made all of these contraptions to replicate a jaw and claws. He attacked the keeper of the polar bear exhibit as some sort of vigilantly bear justice.” 

You laughed so hard that Sherlock had to take the phone away from his ear. “That honestly doesn’t even sound real.” 

”It’s certainly the most ridiculous case I’ve ever had to do, albeit the most amusing,” Sherlock admitted. Your silence made him suspicious. “What are you planning?” 

”Well,” you began, “it might not be the most ridiculous case you’ll ever have.” You could imagine Sherlock narrowing his eyes as clear as day. “One of my students came to me today and told me that her cat was murdered –“ 

”Goodbye.” 

”No! Sherlock, wait,” you called desperately. “There have been at least ten others, all of them with their heads and tails cleanly cut off. How do you not find that interesting? I mean, who can murder an innocent pet and then leave it on the doorstep of the owner who has loved it for years? Think of the depravity! I’m mean this person is breaking into homes and stealing more as we speak. And it was Rebecca who asked me for help.” You waited, hoping that the silence was Sherlock making up his mind rather than thinking of which insult he’d like use. 

”I’ll do it.” 

”Seriously!?” 

”Well, do you want me to do it or not?” Sherlock snapped. 

“No! No! I want you to do it! Thank you. I love you.” 

“Whatever.” Sherlock hung up. 

You put your phone down, smiling. You loved that bastard so much. 

~*~ 

You slid out of the cab and opened the door of 221 Baker Street. As you clomped up the stairs, you noticed a very strong odor that you couldn’t quite place. You stopped, confused. Then you let out a large sneeze. Rubbing your eyes, you continued up the stairs. 

”Oh my god,” You put the key into your flat. The smell was definitely coming from inside. You opened the door, readying yourself for whatever was inside. It seemed that fate was not in your favor, because you could never have prepared yourself for what was behind the door. 

Dozens of cats roamed the flat; running across the floor, climbing on the furniture, and clawing up the curtains. You could barely hear your own thoughts with all of the meowing. You looked to your right and saw Sherlock, sitting on the couch with a cat on his head. 

”I accidently adopted twenty-five cats,” he said flatly. 

You put down your bag. “You _accidently_ adopted twenty-five cats?” 

Sherlock rolled his eyes and pushed the cat off of his head. “I obviously had to get several cats to experiment several beheading methods and have enough to plant around the city to flush the killer out. I went to the shelter and they wouldn’t let me take the cats unless I adopted them.” 

You let out a long groan. “I’m allergic, Sherlock. You’re also not chopping off the heads of any cats.” 

Another cat meandered its way onto Sherlock’s head, enticed by his soft curls. He picked it up and hurled it across the room without a thought. The cat slammed against the wall with a loud _thunk!_. With a hiss, it was on its feet and shot into the kitchen. 

”Look! They’re going into the kitchen!” You pointed to the abused cat. “It’s disgusting!” 

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “I’m no less miserable than you are, but you asked me to find a cat killer and I am doing just that.” 

He was right and you sighed at his stupid smug face. “Where’s John?” 

Sherlock began to round up all of the cats into a cage. “He said I was insufferable and left.” He grabbed a cat and snapped a collar on it. “I’ve installed small cameras in every collar. This is very cut and dry.” His eyes flicked to you. “You’re lucky I love you because this is both insulting to me and my work.” As he spoke, another cat had climbed onto his head. Sherlock threw it against the wall with a reflex faster than any cat in the room. 

”I love you too.” 

Sherlock only pushed you out of the way, leaving the flat with a cage of his twenty-five cats.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry this took a little bit. I have occipital epilepsy and I was seizure free for a year and then my brain decided to be an asshole and it started up again. 
> 
> The next installment is going to prequel! I really want to explore how they met and got together. I hope it's something you're interested in.


End file.
